


Sing Me All The Way Home

by ThePlumPyre



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, The Lindworm Retelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 23:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePlumPyre/pseuds/ThePlumPyre
Summary: Never in her wildest dreams did Dorothea ever imagine that she would find herself saving a princess.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg
Comments: 7
Kudos: 76





	Sing Me All The Way Home

When Ionius IX receives the throne of the Adrestian Empire from his father before him, he seeks to solidify his power absolutely and immediately. However, the traitorous seven under that snake, Duke Aegir, stage a coup, and render Emperor Ionius IX impotent. However,in his infinite ambition, the Emperor seeks any means to regain what he has lost. Blinded by his own greed for power, Ionius seeks an audience with the great sorcerer, Thales.

“My Emperor,” Thales greets with an exaggerated bow. “My my, I can’t say I’ve been expecting a visit from you of all people.” 

“Grand Sorcerer Thales,” Ionius says, voice authoritative and firm, “I have a request of you.”

“And what is it that you ask of me, my Emperor?”

“I want power. I want back what the ministers have taken from me and more!”

“Is that all?” Thales asks with a laugh. “Child’s play!”

“You’ll help me?” Ionius asks, clearly expecting more resistance.

“Of course I will, Your Majesty.” 

“I will reward you most generously!”

“I need no reward,” Thales says, voice rich with mirth. “But I do need some things to put my plans into action.”

“Name them, and they shall be yours!”

“I need your eleven children.” 

“My children?” Ionius asks, shocked and appalled. “Surely there is another way!”

“I can give them more power too,” Thales offers, holding a hand out to the Emperor. “Isn’t that what you want? Children so strong and capable you won’t have to worry about them or throne when you are gone.”

“I must consider things,” Ionius says reluctantly.

“Don’t be like that,” Thales chides. “I live to serve, Your Majesty. I only want to give you the things you want.”

“The things I want?”

“I only have your very best intentions at heart.”

Ionius looks down at the hand extended out to him, looks up at Thales’ smiling face. There is something sinister about the sorcerer, something that makes Ionius’ skin crawl with unease. Thales is not a man to be trusted, but Ionius has heard stories. Thales can eradicate plagues, split mountains, and forge weapons so powerful they can eradicate battalions with a single blow. Life is full of risks, full of choices, and Ionius makes his.

“I accept,” Ionius says resolutely, taking Thales’ hand in his own and giving it a firm shake.

One month later, Ionius sits upon his throne when the doors to the throne room slam open so hard, the hinges creak. Thales walks in, a grin plastered across his face.

“What is the meaning of this?” Ionius demands.

“It is done,” Thales laughs. “All your ministers are dead.”

“Dead?” Ionius gasps, dread flooding his body.

“All dead,” Thales confirms with a chuckle. “You are the only one left, Your Majesty. Everything is yours now.”

“This– This isn’t what I wanted!” Ionius shouts, jumping to his feet.

“Oh, but this is exactly what you wanted!”

“No!”

“It gets even better! Edelgard! Come here!”

Ionius is frozen as he watches a giant creature, a Hegemon Husk, lumber into the throne room. The creature’s snow white hair hangs loose around its face, hanging limpy over bright red eyes. Its whole body is covered in some sort of leathery armour plating, and two wretched leathery protrusions burst from its shoulders, like a pair of spiky armoured wings.

“El,” Ionius sobs. “Oh, my darling daughter. What has he done to you?”

“I’ve given her power beyond your wildest imaginings!” Thales rejoices. “Her siblings were too weak to withstand it, but she survived!”

Tears stream down Ionius’ face as he lets out a heart broken howl. Seeing her father cry so openly, Edelgard feels her despair morph into rage. Turning on Thales, Edelgard raises a hand and swats Thales so hard a pillar cracks when he sails into it. Stunned, Thales stumbles to his feet, gathering his magic in his palms, but it is not enough. The Hegemon Husk of his creation has powers that far surpass his own. Edelgard gathers a crackling ball of purple energy in her palms and hurls it at Thales. Thales shrieks and erupts into flames upon contact. Roaring, Edelgard flaps her wings, the force of her flapping shattering the throne room’s windows.

“El!” Ionius shrieks, stumbling towards his daughter.

Edelgard freezes, watching in horror as her father reaches out for her with a trembling hand, his face painted with terror. Lifting her hands to her face, Edelgard screams when she sees what she has become. Edelgard takes flight, repulsed and horrified, barreling through a grand window. She flees Enbarr, becoming a speck on the horizon as Ionius screams after her.

* * *

Dorothea checks her appearance one last time in the mirrored walls of the throne room where she awaits an audience with Emperor Ionius IX. Tucking a few stray strands behind her ear, Dorothea fidgets with the ends of her hair.

“Announcing the arrival of His Majesty, Emperor Ionius IX,” a guard announces, opening the great doors.

Dorothea immediately kneels, her eyes fixed on a particularly interesting tile on the floor mosaic. She hears the light footsteps of the Emperor. 

“You may rise,” Ionius says once he has seated himself upon his throne. 

“Your Majesty,” Dorothea addresses once she stands again.

“State your business,” Ionius says, voice weary and strained.

Now that Dorothea sees Emperor Ionius IX, she bites back a gasp. The man looks like death, a sack of skin over frail bones. There are large dark bags under the man’s eyes, and they only accentuate the network of wrinkles covering his face. This is the mighty Emperor? This is a man a mere breath from death’s doorstep. 

“I am Dorothea Arnault,” Dorothea recovers from her shock, introducing herself. “I am a gremory and diva with the Mittelfrank Opera Company.”

“What business do you have with me?” Ionius asks, annoyed.

“The company is having a little financial trouble,” Dorothea admits. “One of our patrons in what remains of the nobility arranged this meeting as a favour to me.”

“I have no interest in your opera m–,” Ionius breaks into a coughing fit before he can finish talking.

“It’s said that you have a quest for your knights,” Dorothea forces herself to still her trembling hands and continue. “A quest that none have been able to complete.”

“And what business is that of yours?” Ionius gasps, lungs still not cooperating with him.

“Allow me to attempt this quest of yours,” Dorothea offers. “If I succeed, you give financial assistance to the Mittelfrank Opera Company.”

“None of my most talented knights have succeeded,” Ionius says. “What makes you think that you will succeed?”

“I am a skilled gremory. If none of your knights have succeeded, then what have you to lose by permitting me to attempt, Your Majesty?”

Ionius has nothing to say to this. He thinks long and hard before sighing so deeply, he appears to melt into the throne.

“Very well, Miss Arnault,” Ionius concedes. “I will allow you to attempt my quest, and if you succeed, I will grant my aid to your opera company.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Dorothea says with a bow.

“Miss Arnault, do you remember the events of seven years ago?” Ionius asks, voice rich with regret and grief.

“The Slaughter of the Seven,” Dorothea recalls, “and the loss of the royal children. Your Majesty, my sincerest condolences for your losses.”

Ionius pauses to collect his thoughts. He folds his hands together on his lap, the truth bubbling up, ready to spew out all at once.

“I am responsible,” Ionius admits. “I asked the sorcerer Thales to help me after the insurrection. I did not think that he would have… that he… that he would have killed them! I never imagined– I didn’t…”

Dorothea doesn’t say anything. These events are terrifying, but Dorothea is afraid if she interrupts now, the Emperor will be unable to bring himself to finish the story. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Ionius mutters. “Nothing matters anymore. Nothing but her. My El. One of my children survived. Edelgard is alive.”

Dorothea is unable to hold back a gasp, a hand fluttering over her mouth in shock.

“Thales killed my children and turned Edelgard into a Hegemon Husk,” Ionius sobs. “I have not stopped searching for her since… since that terrible day she–!”

Dorothea watches helplessly as the mighty Emperor of the Adrestian Empire doubles over, coughing and hacking as if he means to expel his lungs completely.

“I am dying,” Ionius wheezes. “I want to see my daughter one last time. I want to tell her how sorry I am. How much I love her.”

“Alright,” Dorothea says, finally breaking her silence. “I promise you, Emperor Ionius, I will bring your daughter back to you.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

Dorothea wanders further into the woods, hair catching on twigs and bugs swarming all around her. The last reported sighting of a frightening beast had been in the Morgaine Ravine, so Dorothea wanders ever deeper into the ravine. As the sun starts to set and the wolves start to howl, Dorothea can feel a real fear creep up her spine. Turning round and round wildly, Dorothea tries to remember which way is out, but she cannot. Sick with fear, Dorothea feels her magic crackle between her fingers, ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice. But then, Dorothea notices a shadowy shape in the distance; it almost looks like a small cabin.

“Hello?” Dorothea calls out.

No one answers, but Dorothea has started to walk towards the shape now. The closer she gets, the clearer it becomes until Dorothea can see that it is a cabin! Relieved, Dorothea runs the rest of the way, knocking on the quaint little wooden door when she gets there.

“Please,” Dorothea pleads. “I’m lost and it’s almost dark. Please give me shelter for the night!”

Dorothea can hear some shuffling behind the door before it swings wide open, light and the smell of delicious, warm food flooding out. The woman who opens the door looks relatively young with the strangest mint green hair and eyes.

“My name is Dorothea Arnault,” Dorothea introduces herself. “Please give me shelter for the night.”

“My name is Byleth,” Byleth returns, stepping to the side. “Please, come in.”

Dorothea enters the little cabin only to realize that is isn’t so little. How strange that something so large on the inside can appear so small on the outside. The warmth of the roaring fire encourages Dorothea to shed her coat; Byleth is suddenly right there, taking it from her and setting it aside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Byleth says, returning to the fire to tend to her cooking. “Are meat pies okay? That’s what I have cooking right now.” 

“They’re my favourite,” Dorothea says, preparing to sit down on the couch before she remembers herself. “Oh! Is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all!”

Byleth only waves her off. 

“There must be something I can do.”

“Well, it will be a bit before the pies are ready,” Byleth says. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you’re doing in these woods.”

“I here on a quest,” Dorothea sighs, settling into the couch.

“What kind of quest?” Byleth asks, settling in beside Dorothea.

“I’m here to find a princess. But, she’s not really a princess right now.”

“What is she?”

“A Hegemon Husk,” Dorothea says with a wince.

“Do you know how you’re going to save her?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you want to know how to save Princess Edelgard?” Byleth asks quietly.

“How did you–”

“Do you want to know how to save Princess Edelgard?” Byleth repeats herself. “That is the only question which requires your attention right now.”

“Yes,” Dorothea answers slowly, cautiously. “I want to know how to save Princess Edelgard.”

“She lives in a cave just up ahead. There is a little spring and a roaring fire that she keeps going at all times,” Byleth says. “When you go to her, you must enter her cave singing.”

“Which song?” Dorothea asks.

“I will teach you the song,” Byleth promises. “When she hears you singing, she will ask you who you are. Answer her.”

Dorothea nods, willing herself to remember all these instructions.

“She will ask you to sing again. Do _ not _sing for her. Demand that she do something for you in return, a payment of sorts.”

“I understand.”

“She will ask you to name your price. Demand that she shed a skin before you sing her a verse.”

“Shed a skin?”

“You must insist! If she wants a verse, then she must shed a skin! If you fail here, you fail her.”

Dorothea swallows hard, nodding. 

“The song has seven verses, and she must shed seven skins.”

“What happens after...” Dorothea begins, frightened, “after she has shed seven skins.” 

“You will see the crest stone that Thales foist upon the poor girl,” Byleth sighs, saddened. “It’s a wretched pulsing thing that sits where her heart once was. You must tear it out! Tear it out and throw it into the fire!”

Dorothea nods, eyes wide with fright.

“Once the crest is out, bathe the girl in the spring water. Wash her well, from head to toe.”

“That’s rather intimate,” Dorothea huffs, blushing.

“Once washed, wrap her in your coat,” Byleth continues, ignoring Dorothea. “Cradle her in your arms in front of the fire throughout the night. In the morning, she will awaken as Princess Edelgard once again.”

“That’s a lot to remember,” Dorothea groans, mentally running through things again.

“I haven’t even taught you the song yet,” Byleth points out. “But the pies are done now, and we should have some dinner before going into all that.”

The meat pies fill Dorothea, and a full stomach makes anyone feel braver. Once dinner is done, Byleth teaches Dorothea the song, runs through the verses with her over and over again until Dorothea can recite them forwards and backwards.

“Get some rest,” Byleth suggests once they’re done, gesturing to the couch. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

Nodding, Dorothea lies down, drifting off into sleep the instant her head touches the pillow. The next morning, Dorothea wakes up wrapped in her coat, lying on the forest floor. Confused, Dorothea stumbles to her feet, putting on her coat. Dorothea looks around all over, but she can’t find the cabin again. Confused, Dorothea shoves her hands into her pockets, only to pull out a wrapped up meat pie.

“Strange,” Dorothea whispers to herself, unwrapping the pie and taking a bite.

Dorothea finishes her pie and wanders deeper into the forest, not quite sure where she is going, but certain that she is going where she is meant to. In the late afternoon, Dorothea reaches the mouth of large cave.

“This is it,” Dorothea says to herself, willing her racing heart to slow.

Starting to sing, Dorothea walks into the cave. Dorothea keeps her eyes open for anything that might be a Hegemon Husk, but she cannot find it. Dorothea takes small hesitant steps deeper and deeper into the cave. Eventually, the light from outside cannot reach the depths that Dorothea has travelled to. Dorothea trembles in the pitch black darkness and damp cold, but she keeps singing and walking, a hand on the wall of the cave to guide her. Her fingers have gone cold by the time Dorothea sees the telltale glow of a fire’s light ahead. Dorothea pauses her singing, and she can hear the trickle of a spring. 

“Who goes there?” a voice demands, reverberating off the walls of the cave.

Walking to fire’s light, Dorothea gasps when she sees the Hegemon Husk that was once Princess Edelgard resting in the cave. Frightening red eyes glow, a shock of white hair unkempt and wild, leathery wings and skin.

“Who are you?” The Hegemon Husk asks again, voice rattling Dorothea’s very bones.

“My name is Dorothea Arnault,” Dorothea answers, voice steadier than she expected it to be.

“Dorothea,” the Hegemon Husk rolls the name over her tongue. “I like your singing, Dorothea.”

“I enjoy singing.”

“Will you sing for me again?”

“Yes,” Dorothea answers before she remembers herself. “But, I have a condition.”

“Condition?” the Hegemon Husk asks, displeased. 

“I am a diva with the Mittelfrank Opera Company,” Dorothea says with pride. “It costs people a great deal to hear me sing.”

“I have no money,” the Hegemon Husk grumbles, disappointed.

“I accept other forms of payment,” Dorothea says. “Shed a skin, and I will sing a verse for you.”

“Unacceptable,” the Hegemon Husk hisses.

“Well, I suppose you don’t get to hear me sing.”

The Hegemon Husk grumbles, crossing her arms before sighing.

“Fine.”

The Hegemon Husk writhes with the effort of shedding. Cracks form on her leathery skin, splitting and expanding until the skin is loose enough to slide right out of. Free of her outer layer, the Hegemon Husk tosses the shed skin into the fire. Gesturing to Dorothea, the Hegemon Husk waits expectantly.

_ Reach for my hand, _

_ I’ll soar away _

_ Into the dawn _

_ Oh, I wish I could stay _

The Hegemon Husk waits for Dorothea to continue.

“Another skin for another verse,” Dorothea says.

Growling, the Hegemon Husk sheds another skin. 

_ Here in cherished halls, _

_ In peaceful days _

_ I fear the edge of dawn _

_ Knowing time betrays _

The Hegemon Husk sheds another skin.

_ Daylights pass through coloured glass _

_ In this beloved place _

_ Silver shines, the world dines _

_ A smile on each face _

The Hegemon Husk sheds another skin. Dorothea notices that she looks smaller now, limbs less disproportionately long.

_ As joy surrounds, comfort abounds _

_ And I can feel I’m breaking free _

_ For just this moment lost in time _

_ I am finally me _

The Hegemon Husk sheds another skin. Now Dorothea can see a layer of slime coat the Hegemon Husk after this skin is off. Without all these skins, the Hegemon Husk could look vaguely human shaped. 

_ Yet still I hide _

_ Behind this mask that I have become _

_ My blackened heart _

_ Scorched by flames of a force I can’t run from _

The Hegemon Husk sheds another skin. Her exterior is exceedingly slimy and membranous now; the slime obscures what Dorothea can see, but Dorothea thinks she sees something in the Hegemon Husk’s chest. A pulsing round little something. Could it be the crest?

_ I look to you _

_ Like a red rose _

_ Seeking the sun _

_ No matter where it goes _

“Please, no more,” The Hegemon Husk begs, writhing on the floor in distress.

“I’m sorry,” Dorothea says. “Last one. Please.”

The Hegemon Husk sheds her final skin with a roar. Her exterior is dripping slime and membranes now, and the Hegemon Husk definitely has a humanoid shape to her reduced form. Most importantly, Dorothea can clearly see a red, pulsing, fist-sized stone embedded in the chest of the Hegemon Husk. 

_ I long to stay, _

_ Where the light dwells _

_ To guard against the cold _

_ That I know so well _

“I’m so sorry,” Dorothea sobs after she finishes her song, lunging at the Hegemon Husk and shoving her hands into her chest, gripping the crest stone and tearing it out. 

The Hegemon Husk screams in pain as Dorothea pries the crest stone out, and Dorothea cries as she tosses the crest stone into the fire. The Hegemon Husk sways on her feet, but Dorothea grabs her and rushes her to the spring. Dorothea catches the earth-chilled water in her hands, splashing the Hegemon Husk all over before scrubbing as hard as she can. Slime and membranes slough off with each pass of water and scrubbing. 

“Come on,” Dorothea mutters to herself, scrubbing gently but firmly. “I can do this.”

As Dorothea continues to wash the Hegemon Husk and the slime and membranes keep coming off, Dorothea can see the shape of a young woman under it all. Once the Hegemon Husk is clean, Dorothea confirms that she is indeed a beautiful young woman. Dorothea takes off her coat and wraps the Hegemon Husk in it. Dorothea carries her to the fire, setting her down close enough for warmth but far enough to avoid being burned. Laying beside the bundled up Hegemon Husk (or is she Edelgard now?) Dorothea cradles Edelgard in her arms and allows exhaustion to overcome her.

Dorothea awakes to the feeling of someone shifting in her arms.

“Huh?” Dorothea groans, blinking. “What’s going on?”

Looking down at the body she cradles in her arms, Dorothea gasps. Edelgard is lovely in the fire’s light; her hair is a beautiful light brown, and her eyes are the sweetest shade of light lavender as she blinks sleepily.

“Good morning, lovely,” Dorothea says, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind Edelgard’s ear.

“Dorothea?” Edelgard asks with a yawn.

“I’m here.”

“Is– Is this real?”

“This is real,” Dorothea assures, hugging Edelgard tighter in her arms. “You’re real.”

“How wonderful,” Edelgard murmurs, nuzzling her face into Dorothea’s chest and drifting back to sleep. 

“Oh! How wonderful indeed,” Dorothea sighs with a brilliant smile. “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> They fall in love and get married and live happily ever after.


End file.
